DEFY DEATH With Us, In Denver, TODAY!

Yesterday, our connecting flight in Denver from Cancun, it was bad. How bad was it, Rebecca? Well, half an hour into it, the pilot informed us he wasn't climbing to altitude because the cabin wouldn't pressurize, and the backup cabin pressurization system had failed too. That's when I looked down at my three-year-old daughter and saw she was fassssst asleep despite yammering like a common three-year-old daughter until about a minute before.

My daughter is in an airplane oxygen deprivation coma, I thought, as the captain turned us back toward Denver and the ice storm appeared below us so we couldn't see the ground but COULD feel the plane's engines struggling and chugging like the Little Engine That Could, carrying the toys for all the good boys and girls on the other side of the mountain. Which sounds sweet and adorable, if I weren't more frightened than I have ever been in my life.

It was a bad fucking flight, is what I am saying. So they put us on another one, which sat at the gate an hour or two with its mystery mechanical issues, until 6:06 p.m., when the airline could cancel the flight for "ice storm" and thus not have to put anyone up.

Which is when I made the executive decision to get the FUCK out of the airport, NOT try again in the morning, and have Shy find us the nicest hotel downtown. Hello from the Oxford! Which just happens to be across the street from John Hickenlooper's Wynkoop Beer Company, and I think you should meet us there, at the Wynkoop, if you are able, TODAY, SUNDAY, from 3 to 5 p.m., where, unfortunately, we will not be buying your beers, because we just spent all the money at the nicest hotel downtown. But join us anyway, buy your own beer, and we'll throw in some appetizers, because love.

Rebecca Schoenkopf is the owner, publisher, and editrix of Wonkette. She is a nice lady, SHUT UP YUH HUH. She is very tired with this fucking nonsense all of the time, and it would be terrific if you sent money to keep this bitch afloat. She is on maternity leave until 2033.

You guys, hi, hello, it is almost the holiday weekend, so we are going to share you a real video posted last night by "Doctor" Sebastian "Don't Call Me A Nazi" Gorka, that hilarious old knucklecuck. We guess now that he had to give up (or gave up voluntarily!) his Fox News contract, he just makes videos for the Twitter. Hoo ... ray?

Anyway, Gorka is super-excited that Donald Trump issued that order last night, giving Bill Barr all kinds of new powers to expose the Deep State for what it is and PROVE once and for all that the gremlins who live inside Trump's diarrhea are correct when they say Hillary ordered the Deep State to do an illegal witch hunt to Trump, yadda yadda yadda, you've seen these people huff paint before, we don't have to type it all.

Here is the video, after which Wonkette will either transcribe it OR we will provide our own dramatic interpretation. Which one will it be? We don't know! Would you be able to tell the difference between the two? We don't know!

We want to say right here at the outset that we hate Julian Assange. Aside from the sexual assault allegations against him, and aside from the fact that he's just a generally stinky and loathsome person who reportedly smeared poop on the walls at the Ecuadorian embassy in London, while reportedly not taking care of his cat, an innocent creature, he acted as Russia's handmaiden during the 2016 election, in order to further Russia's campaign to steal it for Donald Trump. All signs point to his campaign being a success!

So we are justifiably happy when bad things happen to Julian Assange. We are happy his name is shit the world over, and that any reputation WikiLeaks used to have for being on the side of freedom and transparency has been stuffed down the toilet where it belongs. We are happy he looked like such a sad-ass loser when the Ecuadorian embassy finally kicked him out and he was arrested.

And quite frankly, we were OK with the initial charge against him recently unsealed in the Eastern District of Virginia. If you'll remember, he was charged with trying to help Chelsea Manning hack a password into the Defense Department, which is not what journalists do. Journalists do not drive the get-away car for sources. Journalists do not hold their sources' hair back while they're stealing classified intel. Assange is essentially accused of doing all that.

Now, put all that aside. Because -- and this is key -- journalists do publish secrets they are provided by sources. That's First Amendment, chapter and verse, American as fucking apple pie and fast-food-induced diabetes. And that is what much of the superseding indictment of Assange unsealed yesterday was about. (And nope, it wasn't about anything regarding Assange's ratfucking the 2016 election or Hillary's emails. Why would the Trump Justice Department prosecute anything about that? It's all about the older Chelsea Manning stuff, the stuff the Obama Justice Department considered charging Assange with, but ultimately declined, because of that little thing called the First Amendment.)